


I'll never leave you.

by warmmilkandtea



Category: Football RPF, Real Person Fiction, Sports RPF
Genre: Angst, Hospital, M/M, Marco's Point of view, Mourning, Near Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-16 16:12:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2276190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warmmilkandtea/pseuds/warmmilkandtea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mario is dying, and Marco is by his side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll never leave you.

Brown and yellow leaves flew by as gusts of wind carried them along the hospital facade. I was cold. One could have blamed it on the fact that I had stood next to a window with my forehead pressed against it for half an hour, but I knew that was not the real reason.

I turned around. Not that I would have had to, of course. What I saw had been imprinted upon my mind with such permanence that it had haunted me ever since I had first seen it.

On the bed next to the whitewashed walls lay Mario. His short figure was covered by a patients robe below a white blanket. Cables and tubes lead away from Mario and connected to various devices and IV-bags. His figure rested still, motionless and comatose, just as it had already been for the last six days. His face was calm, its features relaxed. His blond hair was unstyled and covered his forehead. His eyes were shut, just as if he was only sleeping, ready to wake up every at any moment as if nothing had happened. But he wouldn't.

What had happened six days ago? A particularly bad foul had sent Mario flying head-first against the goalpost. He had gone limp before hitting the ground. The diagnosis after the initial CT? Subarachnoid hemorrhage. Blood inside the brain. Chance of recovery? Slim at best, even after the surgery.

Ever since that faithful day, I had come here every day. I had stayed by his side as long as I could. I hoped I could do something, anything but just sit here and watch him. I wanted to see him wake up. But I knew I wouldn't. No one ever would. All I was doing was trying to delay the inevitable.

I looked away again. I couldn't bear looking at Mario like this for too long. It drained whatever spirit was left out of me. The leaves outside were still blowing by. They would still be after Mario was gone. Sometimes I wished I could face death with nature's ignorance. People die. So what.

I couldn't, of course. Mario had been my best friends for years. He meant the world to me, and one without him was one I failed to fathom. Even I could fathom it, I wouldn't wish to. A world without Mario is one I don't want to be part of. I'd rather die next to him than to live without him.

I closed my eyes once again and rested my forehead back against the window. I felt the cool glass against my skin and wished it could be like it was before. Before the game, the foul, before all of this.

Then, all of a sudden, I was torn out of my thoughts by something that felt like a physical force equal to those governing our universe, even though it being nothing more than a croaky whisper.

“Where am I? What happened?” – and then, after some shuffling – “Marco? Is that you?”. I stood, frozen solid. Paralyzed. Cast to stone. “Marco? Are you all right?” Was _I_ all right?

Finally, having regained my motor control, I spun around and saw Mario looking straight at me. His features were not as calm anymore, and judging by Mario's tone of voice and the look in his eyes he was worried. My brain had a hard time registering what had just happened. Mario was talking. He was moving. With one long stride I walked up to the bed, bent over and hugged Mario.

All the feelings of what had felt like an eternity burst out of me. My voice was breaking as I started to speak. “I missed you so much Mario! I thought you were going to die!” Mario probably had no idea what I was talking about, but hugged back anyway. He moved his hands up and down my back, holding me as I cried into his shoulder. When the tears had started ebb away I moved my head to face him. Out of the blue I said “I love you, Mario.”

“I love you too, Marco.”

“Promise you'll stay with me?”

“For ever and ever.”

If I may ever get my own infinity, let it be with him.


End file.
